“It’s done.” The maid has combed his hair.
It was the result of being embraced in her arms. Rufus’ hair was thrown into a mess like an under-built bird’s nest. He could not go out like this, so he caught a comb, and she arranged it for him, saying, ‘I will help you.’
“Thank you,” Rufus replied shortly. Since then, no other words have been spoken.
He looked ugly. He couldn’t believe a grown man like him had sheds tears in emotion. She must have thought he was unsightly, but the maid said the exact opposite.
“I think you’re really great.”
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